The Earl's Dangerous Assignment

by Ginny Hartman

  With great curiosity, she slid across the floor and picked up the parchment, quickly unfolding it as she read:

  Little Lamb,

  I hope this missive finds you well, as I'm now certain you are on the other side of the wall. Fortunately, my room came equipped with parchment and a quill, a luxury I still cannot fathom considering the rudeness of our host. As soon as you've finished reading this, I insist you burn it in the fire to keep evidence of our correspondence a secret.

  I have thought of little else but you since being locked inside this room. I long to protect you from the monotony and fear that I'm certain are accompanying you on this voyage. Trust me when I tell you that everything will be worked out to our satisfaction once we arrive in London and can speak to the authorities. There's no way Whitehall will believe Captain Wallace over two of it's best, most loyal spies.

  Speaking of our arrival in London, once our names are cleared, we will have another dilemma to deal with—the need to explain our absence to our families without divulging the truth. I've pondered this matter greatly and have come up with the perfect solution; we will wed at once! When we return to Tisdale Manor, we can confess our misdeed in eloping and save ourselves further explanation, the likes of which we cannot divulge.

  I know my plan is brilliant, but to hear you agree would bring me the greatest satisfaction. If you do not have access to parchment and a quill, I encourage you to beg the seaman for some so we can correspond back and forth. It's the only way I can think to survive this voyage without going mad.

  All my love,

  Samuel

  Sophia held the letter to her breast, feeling excited by the prospect of communicating with Samuel. Sliding on her knees to the wall where the letter had come from, she inspected it with her fingers and discovered a spot with a rather large crack in the wood. It must've been where he had slipped the letter. Closing one eye and squinting the other, she looked inside, hoping she could see him, but the crack was too small to reveal anything.

  She sat back on her haunches and tapped softly on the wall then pressed her ear to the wood and listened. She heard a soft scurrying accompanied by a hushed whisper, “Sophia?”

  “Oh, Samuel!” she exclaimed with relief and gladness. “I had no idea you were so near.”

  “Shhh, you must be quiet. It wouldn't be wise for us to be caught conversing. I know not what lies on the other side. If we're caught speaking, there's no saying what the Captain might do to us.”

  The thought made Sophia shudder. “You are correct.”

  “We must communicate through letters. See if you can procure some parchment and a quill. If my calculations are correct, our midday meal will be delivered within the hour.”

  “Yes. But what if I cannot get the seaman to oblige?”

  “Then I will figure a way to send you some through the wall.”

  Sophia eyed the small, narrow slit in the wood. “A quill will never fit,” she exclaimed in exasperation, her hopes quickly being dashed.

  “Nevermind, I will figure it out if it comes to that. Now, be quiet, little lamb. Though the sound of your voice is like water to a parched soul, I fear retribution.”

  She nodded her head, though she knew he couldn't see it.

  “One last thing,” he quickly added. “Tell me that you love me.”

  Sophia's hand shook as she reached up and placed it on the wood separating them, imagining she was touching his face instead. She hesitated for a moment, not wanting the words to sound forced or insincere. Though she felt strange uttering the words with a wall between them, she knew he needed to hear them as much as she desired to say them.

  “Samuel, I love you,” she finally whispered hoarsely as fire swelled in her breast.

  She'd been frightened of admitting it, even to herself, but the moment the words escaped her lips, she found they settled in her breast like a bird returning to its nest after a long flight; safe and sound and grateful to be home.

  Home.

  The word jolted her with a realization; Samuel was her home now. Though she'd been ostracized from London Society and detested life at Goldborne Hall, there was one place, or rather, one person where she always felt like she belonged and that was at Samuel's side.

  “Oh, Sophia. You've no idea how long I've waited to hear those sweet words from your lips. If only I could gaze upon your face right now, I'd feel complete.”

  She was about to respond when she heard the sound of footsteps passing in front of her door, reminding her that they could be caught at any moment. She clamped her mouth tightly shut and leaned her back against the wall, wishing to be as close to Samuel as possible, even if they could no longer risk speaking to one another.

  Eventually, exhaustion combined with the steady lull of the ship, caused her to drift asleep, though it wasn't for long. She was soon woken by the sound of the key turning in the lock and quickly rose to her feet to wait for the seamen to enter with her tray of food.

  Running a hand through her hair, she straightened her rumpled clothing and waited for the man to enter. Without a single word, he thrust the tray containing hardtack, some salted pork, and a glass of water at her. She rumpled her nose at the sight of the familiar fare, wishing for some diversity in her diet.

  She set the tray down on the small table against the wall as the seaman turned to leave. “Wait,” she called out and watched with relief as the man hesitated. “Can I beg of you some parchment and a quill, sir? I find the monotony of the voyage quite dull and would much appreciate a diversion.”

  “I will have to ask the Captain,” the man grumbled, and Sophia's heart sank.

  She reached out and placed her hand on the seaman's arm and attempted to give him her most dejected look. “But is that truly necessary? I know for certain what his answer will be. He doesn't trust me with sheets for my mattress for fear I will hang myself. Do you really believe he'll allow me something to write with?”

  The man's chest puffed out as he inhaled a large breath of air. Letting it out slowly, he said, “I cannot do anything without the blessing of the captain,” then turned and quickly shut the door before she could do any more begging.

  She went to her tray of food and picked up the hardtack and angrily broke it in half before throwing it back onto the tray. She waited for what felt like an eternity before finally returning to the wall, irritated at the way everyone aboard the ship was treating her. She was not a criminal!

  Sophia tapped impatiently on the boards until she heard Samuel say, “What is it?”

  “I'm not allowed parchment and a quill unless it's approved by the captain, so you know that will never happen.”

  “I will figure it out,” Samuel said confidently. “Just give me some time.”

  Sophia pulled her limp mattress to the wall where she could lay atop it while she waited. She found comfort in knowing she was close to Samuel, though there was still a barrier separating them.

  She'd almost dozed off once more when she heard the flutter of parchment fall from the crack. She picked it up and unfolded it, but it was blank. Next, she heard scraping as Samuel attempted to twist the quill through the narrow opening.

  Sophia watched for several minutes as he attempted to force the quill through an opening that was much too small. Finally, the absurdity of it all made her laugh. “Oh, Samuel. It's useless. Even if you get the quill through, you will never be able to pass the pot of ink to me.”

  “Fiend seize it,” he said with a chuckle, “you're right. I guess my desperation to communicate with you clouded my judgment.”

  Sophia giggled once more, amazed at how much better she felt just knowing Samuel was near. “Your effort has been noble, my lord, but in vain.”

  “Then we have but one option.”

  “What is that,” she asked, curiously.

  “We will wait until night falls and it's safe for us to speak. There is a night guard that comes by twice during his shift, so we will have to be careful of his watch, but I'm confident it'll be muc
h safer to speak then.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “In the meantime, I will busy myself with writing you missives to occupy the time. Would that please you?”

  “Greatly.”

  For the remainder of the day, Sophia waited anxiously for Samuel's missives, which came frequently and kept her rather amused. Some were short stories he shared of his time as a spy, which she wondered if he embellished for her amusement, while some were memories he shared of his childhood. She loved these stories best, for it was clear he'd always been a precocious boy, and it was evident his life as a spy suited him well.

  When night finally fell, and they were free to speak openly, Sophia had one, burning question on her mind. She waited for Samuel to initiate conversation since it was he who knew when the guard was due for his rounds.

  “I hope you enjoyed my silly stories,” he said when he finally spoke.

  “Oh, yes, I did. Are they all true?”

  “Of course,” he said with a laugh. “Do you think I made them up simply to amuse you?”

  “Perhaps,” she said with a laugh of her own. She was in awe of the fact that she was actually feeling something besides misery aboard The Tempest. “But Samuel, I must ask you an honest question.”

  “What is that?”

  “Are you truly prepared to give up your life as a spy in exchange for marriage?”

  Her heart sunk as the silence between them dragged on longer than she'd anticipated. Perhaps he wasn't prepared to wed her after all. When she could no longer take the silence, she blurted, “I'm not sure I can. To exchange a life of adventure for a life of drudgery as a wife and a mother is almost more than I can take.”

  When Samuel finally spoke, his voice was contemplative. “Can I ask you a question in response to your own?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever been a wife and a mother?”

  Sophia scoffed. “Of course not. You already know that.”

  “Then how can you be certain those roles are filled with nothing but drudgery?” Before he let her answer, he forged on, “I must confess, I've had the same concern fill my mind dozens of times, especially once I realized I was in love with you. But do you know what else I've come to realize?”

  “What?”

  “That exchanging one adventure for another doesn't always have to be a bad thing. Take, for example, when we were partnered together. Up until that point I'd been involved with a very complex case. I'd devoted years of my life trying to crack it, both in our homeland and abroad. When most men were off experiencing their grand tour, I was in France hidden among the enemies, putting my life at risk to protect The Crown.”

  Sophia hadn't known any of this and continued to listen eagerly.

  “I was summoned home by my father when Alexandra's parents died. As you may have heard, I'd been betrothed to her since her birth. I was now expected to do what was right by the law and come home and wed her. I did not leave France without a fight, but the powers that be not-so-gently reminded me that my first duty is to my family and my title. I was also bound to Alexandra by legal agreement, so my hands were tied. I left that assignment unfinished, handing it off to my more than capable partner, trusting he'd see it to its conclusion. I never thought I'd work as a spy again, but life unraveled differently at home than I expected and eventually, Alexandra wed my father instead.”

  “I must admit I'm grateful for that,” Sophia interjected.

  “As am, I. Alexandra is an extraordinary woman,” he admitted, causing a twinge of jealousy to fill Sophia's breast, though she knew it was ridiculous. “She's beautiful, headstrong, and talented at many things, but she lacks many fine qualities that you do not, first and foremost the ability to make my heart race and passion to thrum through my veins. Alexandra is a fine stepmother, but she would never have satisfied me as a wife.”

  “And I will?”

  “Of that I am confident. As I was saying, I never thought I'd work as a spy again, so it was with elation that I returned to the Main Office with the news of my broken betrothal, eager and ready to take up my post in France. Much to my grave disappointment, they declined my return and gave me the assignment of partnering with you instead, or rather, protecting you. I was cross as crabs at the prospect and contemplated declining the assignment, but duty and honor compelled me onward.”

  “How noble of you,” she quipped dryly.

  Ignoring her, he continued, “You see, though I was disappointed at the change of assignment, fearing it would be far less adventurous and lack the importance of my previous one, I came to realize something extraordinary; change isn't always welcomed, but it isn't always bad. I discovered things during our partnership that I could never have discovered in France.”

  “Like what?”

  “That no amount of work as a spy will ever satisfy my truest desires; to be loved and love in return. I don't wish to lie on my deathbed and have nothing but stories of espionage to keep me company. I'd rather be surrounded by those I've loved and who love me in return, a posterity that will forge a legacy and carry on my family name. Those are the things that truly matter, Sophia. Those are the things I want, and I want them all with you.”

  Sophia was grateful when the sound of footsteps forced them into silence, for she wasn't entirely ready to respond to his passionate and heartfelt declaration. Perhaps Samuel was right. Perhaps she could view marriage as simply exchanging one adventure for another, instead of viewing it as a trip to the gallows as she had with Reverend Balfour.

  When the footsteps faded down the hall into nothingness, Sophia finally replied softly, but with conviction, “I think I'm ready to take the risk.”

  “I know I am, little lamb, but only with you.”

  The last several nights Sophia stayed up a large portion of the night conversing with Samuel. By the time she curled onto her thin mattress and closed her eyes, she slept like the dead. She was currently in this state of rest when, unbeknownst to her, someone unlocked her door and slid inside her room.

  It wasn't until she felt a boot nudge her in the side that she came to. Startled by the intrusion, Sophia jumped to her feet. She started screaming when she felt a rough hand clasp across her mouth, blocking any noise from escaping.

  In the darkness, she couldn't see who the intruder was. Fear slithered through her as she began clawing at the stranger like a feral cat, trying to escape his clutches.

  “Stop it at once,” the unfamiliar voice growled.

  The stranger's threats did nothing to calm Sophia who continued to attack the intruder until he twisted her hands painfully behind her back and began dragging her from her room. She cried out, hoping Samuel could hear her, though she realized painfully, that even if he did, there was nothing he could do to help her.

  “Ye wretched chit,” the man snarled, “ye be nothin' but trouble. Good thing we be gettin' rid of ye today.”

  Sophia came up short at his words, but the man forced her along, not allowing her to stop walking. “What do you mean you’re getting rid of me today?” Fear slithered through her at the thought of what awful fate could await her.

  “We'll be dockin' at the Port of London shortly. Captain Wallace be intent on turnin' ye in, missy. Good riddance is what I say.”

  Her mouth hung agape. She hadn't realized they were already at their journey's end. Sophia was hesitant to let relief wash over her, for the prospect of explaining her actions to the Main Office seemed daunting. At least she'd have Samuel by her side, she thought with gratitude.

  The early morning mist hovering over the sea was thick. Sophia looked out over the waters as they advanced to the upper deck but couldn't see the shore. It made her feel trapped, casting an eery pall over the entire ship.

  Her skin itched from the bugs she'd been sleeping with and the lack of proper cleansing. Her clothes were filthy, and she stunk worse than she ever had in her life. Her state of unkempt was humiliating, though she had no choice but to accept it and hope she'd be allowed a bath someti
me shortly.

  From the corner of her eye, Sophia saw movement. With a flick of her head, she noticed Captain Wallace leaning against a rail on the starboard side of the ship. Standing next to him, she instantly recognized Samuel and gave out a startled gasp. His face was covered with a beard, and he looked just as awful as she felt, though the sight of him was beyond welcoming. She ached to run to him and throw herself into his arms, but the brutish seaman who was holding her hostage would never allow it.

  “Let her go,” Captain Wallace ordered the seaman as they approached.

  Sophia snatched her swollen wrists away and began rubbing the soreness from them. She was certain bruises would appear before long.

  “You are dismissed, Rutley.” The seaman scurried off, quick to obey the captain's orders. Once the three of them were alone, Captain Wallace spoke once more. “You are probably aware by now that we are about to dock at the Port of London. In half a day's time, I will be presenting you to the Main Office. However, before we left Cornwall, I had my men retrieve your belongings so I could search them.”

  For the first time since leaving Cornwall, Sophia thought of her borrowed horse that she'd had to abandon, sorrow constricting her heart.

  “What have you done with our horses?” Samuel asked, expressing her same worry.

  “'Tis none of your concern. Where you are going, I venture to guess you won't need them.”

  Sophia watched Samuel's jaw twitch angrily and wondered if the two would come to blows, somewhat surprised when they didn't. Samuel seemed to let the comment pass without much more than a terse grunt, which surprised Sophia. Perhaps he was too weak from lack of proper nourishment on their journey to put up a fight.

  Forgetting all about the horses they'd left behind, Sophia watched curiously as Captain Wallace retrieved her leather satchel from behind him and held it up before her face. “Look familiar?”

  “Give me that,” she exclaimed as she tried to snatch it from his hands.